He Touched Me
Someone touched me
And I didn't know it.
Again, he touched me
And I was awaken;
Awaken from a cold blooded sleep.
I foreknew this hand that touched me
But his face, so bright, I can't behold...
How could I not know whose hand it is?
This hand bruised and perforated,
With a touch so soft and gentle...
It's nothing like the touch of a mere man.
It was HIM who touched me
And yes!, it was his touch that woke me.
It was by his touch that I was rescued
Awaken from my slumbering bed
Where I laid and didn't know I was dead.
How would I have known
That I was long gone
On an untimely sojourn
To the place of no return
If not that he touched my soul?
But he didn't just touch me...
Right there on her knees
With tears on her cheeks
She prayed ceaselessly
On her child's lifeless body
Laid before the altar...
That child was me—
Already dead and deceased.
She knew he would hear her call.
She knew the power of his touch
For she had been touched once before
So she begged same for her son
Believing the mighty one will yield her voice
And breathe life back into mama's little one.
Her tearful cries were not in vein
Her son regained life once again.
And the great pains with which she came
Melted away at the mention of Jesus Name.
The one who came with her lifeless son calling
Returns home with dancing and joyful singing.
Authored by:
Ebenezer O. Akinrinade
+2347035051509, +2348027701092 (whatsapp)
ebenezer.akinrinade@gmail.com
http://gent2smile.blogspot.com
Tweet: @gent2smile / @EbenAkinrinade
**[Note: This is a true life story of what happened to me as a child.]
© Ebenezer Akinrinade
Copyright © Ebenezer Akinrinade | Year Posted 2016
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